


almost

by happinessafteryou (ayemendes)



Series: not quite [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Haylor, feeling sorry for harry, toe!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayemendes/pseuds/happinessafteryou
Summary: when is harry's timing ever going to be right?
Relationships: Harry Styles/Taylor Swift
Series: not quite [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088429
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	almost

**Author's Note:**

> ah this is my first time posting on here! any and all feedback would be appreciated :)
> 
> there is a (sort of) part two to this if anyone is interested haha

Harry hated the traffic in LA. 

It was late and he knew that on top of everything else he was about to do, him showing up unannounced this late at night was probably going to piss her off. It wasn’t intentional on his part either. One moment he was bleary-eyed and laughing with Niall in a hole-in-the-wall in Beverly Hills, and the next he was in his car, speeding the direction of his house.

Except his place was a street over. 

_Christ._

What was he doing? 

Just as the shadow of doubt was dawning, the security guard at her gate appeared at his window. He took a deep breath and willed himself to get all the way sober again before rolling down the window. 

A small part of him belatedly hoped she wasn’t even in LA. He’d heard from Ed that she was quite partial to North London these days. If she wasn’t around, then this would probably stay between Graham and himself.

“Mr Styles?” the stockier, older man couldn’t hide the tone of surprise in his voice.

“Hi, Graham,” he plastered on the sparkling smile he’d used to get in many times before. Granted, those times were before Taylor’s current boyfriend.

“Miss Swift didn’t mention anything about having company over,” Graham said, almost giving Harry a disapproving look. Graham knew more than almost anyone what Harry and Taylor usually got up to when he turned up in the middle of the night like this. It was hard to sneak around on and off for years without their security teams helping them out most of the time.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, because Graham knew this was spontaneous. Harry had the decency to avert his eyes when he asked him to phone up to the house and ask if he could be let in. Graham looked like he wanted to say something more but he shook his head like a disappointed father and dialed the number to Taylor’s phone.

A few seconds later, the gate rolled open and his Mercedes crawled in, parking on the driveway next to a black Range Rover. He popped his door open quickly before he lost his nerve and started walking in the direction of the door as it swung open. He muttered a curse-word, because it was too late to turn around and act like this had never happened.

His heart dropped to his feet.

He hadn’t seen Taylor in a long time. She was just re-emerging into the spotlight and he hadn’t had the honor of being at the same event as her recently. Thank God for that, or he probably would have embarrassed himself like he was about to do now.

Taylor stood at the door, her wavy hair mostly pulled up in a top-knot, the light from behind her in the entryway, framing her face in wisps of soft gold. When she realized it was him showing up unannounced, at almost one in the morning, he had a moment to take the rest of her in while she formulated her confusion into words.

Her sleepwear was lilac, and silk, he thought. It hit him hard that she wasn’t the little twenty-five year old he used to mess around with, backstage of her shows and in hotel rooms. She was all hips and healthy curves, and the thin material of her nightgown draped and accentuated everything he knew he wasn’t allowed to touch now. It’s held up by teeny-tiny straps and his mind quickly imagined snapping them as he pinned her against—

“Harry. What are you doing here?” she said, her stance unwelcoming and her tone weary. She blinked slowly, and he knew that he’d woken her up, and he suddenly felt guilty.

“Tay,” he breathed, steeling himself before saying the words that had been bouncing around in his head since he’d landed in Los Angeles basically. The words that had been echoing in his chest for years.

She frowned, and crossed her arms over her chest and he took a fraction of a second to admire how her boobs just looked so good, without her doing anything. It was unfair.

“I was with Niall just a bit ago and, God,” he pulled his hand through his hair and she was temporarily distracted by his tattooed bicep straining against the sleeve of his tee shirt.

“And he mentioned you and tour and, I took it as a sign, you know?”

“I _don’t,_ , Harry. What are you talking about?” she said, suddenly growing impatient – especially with the chilly air from outside that made her shiver a little.

“Taylor, I love you. I’ve loved you for seven years now. I don’t know how I can pretend to be okay without you anymore. I want you.”

The silence stretched tight between them and Taylor just stared at him. He didn’t know what he had been expecting her to do; maybe proclaim her love for him and kiss him on the porch? He thought she’d even ask him to leave, but she didn’t. She just stared.

He was nervous and about to say something else when she finally spoke, after a minute or so of quiet between them.

“What am I meant to do with that, Harry?” she asked, way too calmly.

He was not expecting that to be the first thing she said after he'd finally told her how he felt.

“I just—”

“You just what?” he was quiet, which was fine because she answered herself.

“Wait, let me guess. You just figured because you were done gallivanting around the world with every supermodel you gave puppy dog eyes to, that you were finally ready to come back to whatever it is that we became? That I would fall into your arms and act like this shit isn’t toxic?” her voice stung so much so, that Harry found himself taking a small step back.

“No,” he sighed, “I just thought you should know that I still feel the same way. _That_ same way we both felt.”

Taylor chuckled, but there was no laughter in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare tell me you want me now. Don’t you _dare_. Where was this energy three years ago when Adam and I ended? Better even, when Tom and I imploded? Where were you?”

“Taylor, I’m here now and I’m trying, _Christ_ ,” he huffed, fully sobered by the conversation.

“I don’t think you should be here. I think you should go,” she deadpanned.

Harry felt his heart catch in his throat, and tried to swallow so he could say something—anything really. This couldn’t be how their story ended. They deserved an epic ending, not this quiet conclusion on her porch.

“Baby, who’s at the door?” a deep voice with an accent not unlike his came from behind Taylor. Not two seconds later, her blonde boyfriend was standing in the open doorway, already looking annoyed. A small cat sauntered up to him, and he quickly scooped it up and pet it before shooting Harry a cold stare and addressing his girlfriend. 

“Everything alright?” his tone was soft, his other hand found its way to her waist.

Harry realized then that he didn’t have a place in her life anymore, and it was his fault. He didn’t recognize the cat, or her choice in sleepwear, or anything really. He barely recognized himself. Was he stuck in limbo, swinging between his twenty-one year old self and him how? 

She’d found a replacement for him and he was always ready to love her in the way she needed. And he was taller than him. Harry felt sick. This hadn’t been what he’d expected at all. Not matter how selfish it sounded. Had he really turned into just another one of her exes? He was almost nauseous with shock.

“Harry was just leaving, love,” she said pointedly.

Joe stared, clearly waiting for Harry to make his departure. 

Harry sighed deeply, not knowing how he was going to get through the mosh-pit of his emotions before he slept that night.

“Goodbye, Taylor. I was nice to see you, Joe,” he lied.

“Hope you travel safely,” Joe said, not even sounding like he believed the words he was saying.

Taylor didn’t say anything. All she did was glare as he turned and dragged his heavy heart along with him back to his car. Her eyes followed his car’s form as if disappeared and turned into the next road.

She shut the door behind herself and Joe raised an eyebrow, “What did he want?”

Taylor let out a weighty sigh that could probably be felt in New York. “He wanted us to get back together.”

She watched his face change carefully from curious to disgusted. “That’s fucking brave of him. And weird.”

She agreed as they made their way back up to their bedroom and got back into the comforting warmth of the bedsheets. They laid facing each other; their breath mingling and blue eyes locked on each other. Joe traced Taylor’s cheek slowly with his thumb.

“Harry’s young. And selfish—”

“—and he doesn’t seem to think I’ll beat him up if he tries something like that again,” he finished.

A grin spread across Taylor’s face, and she bit back a laugh as she swatted at him and he pulled her closer. Their breathing calmed down and Joe was soon out cold again, but Taylor was still wide awake; thinking about how, less than a year ago, she’d almost done the same thing Harry had done.

_Almost._


End file.
